


sour is gross.

by Anonymous



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Other, Size Kink, Sleepy Sex, Wet Dream, tags are weird because sex with venom is... different., uhhhh. halloween fun.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 18:05:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16434239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: sometimes your symbiote lets you sleep.sometimes... it turns into alien sex.





	sour is gross.

**Candy.**

 

Eddie hums in response and whether him or Venom is reaching for the last package of M&Ms, Eddie isn’t sure. He doesn’t exactly care. He opens the paper bag with his teeth and lets the little chocolates fall into his mouth. 

 

It’s near midnight on Halloween and Eddie has been caged up in his apartment for the majority of the day, on the couch, marathoning whatever horror movies come on. Venom keeps commenting on the monsters in them. His favorite thus far is Predator. 

**Out of candy, Eddie.**

 

“Yeah, well, we’ve already gone through 3 bags.” 

 

On screen, Hannibal Lecter is being rolled out in his signature mask. Eddie likes The Silence of The Lambs well enough, but Venom has voiced his boredom several times already. 

 

If a movie doesn’t have a substantial amount of gore or body horror, Venom doesn’t consider it worth their time. 

 

**More candy** , Venom pushes. 

 

“It’s late, man, we should hit the hay.” 

 

**A holiday made for candy.**

 

Eddie sighs and runs a hand down his face. He already feels lethargic, but he’s dressed decent enough that he could go out in public for a snack run. Sweats and a hoodie, but the standard is low. 

 

He knows Venom will keep insisting. With words of with physical effort. 

 

“Yeah, alright,” Eddie finally says and he pushes himself off the couch. 

 

Venom makes a sound of approval that echoes inside of Eddie’s skull, this low rumble that zigzags down his spine. It feels nice in a way that would have made Eddie reel in hysteria a few months ago. 

 

Eddie stretches his hands over his head, sways to the right in an attempt to crack his back, and where his hoodie is pulled up to reveal a slice of white skin, he can feel little tendrils peeking out; lapping at his stomach and barely breaching the surface of his skin. Venom making a small appearance. 

 

“I bet you could come out tonight,” Eddie comments, amused at the thought. He pulls on his shoes. “People would probably think you’re some sick costume.” 

 

**Better than a costume.**

 

Eddie half laughs. “Got that right, buddy.” 

 

**Better than man,** Venom continues as Eddie steps out of the apartment. 

 

Venom is quiet for most of the walk to the store, but as soon as he sees someone dressed as a clown outside, he makes a disgruntled sound. Next to them is a vampire, as well, but Venom doesn’t seem as put off by their appearance. 

 

It’s funny in someway, that Venom is aware of how badly he can scare humans with his alien looks, but is still upsetted by seeing a person in makeup. 

 

**Not funny. They look ugly,** Venom pipes up as Eddie enters the store. 

 

“Well, clowns are supposed to be funny.” 

 

**Not funny** , Venom repeats, childlike. 

 

“Most people are scared of clowns these days.” 

 

**Stupid.**

 

Eddie is steered directly to the candy aisle and he knows Venom is puppeteering him, the slight pressure in his knees, the tingles that go through his legs. He doesn’t resist. Sometimes giving up motor function is easier than trying to fight it. 

 

Means less effort on his part, anyway. 

 

**Sour is gross, Eddie,** Venom mutters, annoyed, when Eddie reaches for some sugar belts. 

 

“I like sour.” He runs his tongue against the roof of his mouth, feels the film of chocolate that is practically clinging to his throat. 

 

**Milky Ways. Snickers.**

 

Eddie sticks out his tongue, yet, using his own free will, grabs some jumbo bars. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

**Sour is gross, Eddie** , Venom reiterates for the third time that night when Eddie dangles a belt between his fingers and lowers it into his mouth. 

 

“So is eating bags and bags of chocolate.” 

 

**False.**

 

Eddie rolls his eyes and wipes away the little bits of sour sugar that have fallen onto his chest. If he wasn’t a host to a symbiote, he’d be on the edge of the sugar high of a lifetime, but with Venom, most foods are taken like he has a tapeworm. He can feel when Venom is the one consuming the food, like a cartoon character has drawn a hole in his stomach and everything is falling into it. 

 

**Not a tapeworm, Eddie.**

 

“I know.”

 

**Tapeworms are parasites** , Venom says. 

 

The end credits to Silence of The Lambs are rolling and the television is advertising The Shining to come on next.

 

“I didn’t say you were a parasite, Venom, just…  _ similar _ to one.” Technically he hadn’t said anything. Venom was just listening in on thoughts again. 

 

**Parasites don’t keep you** **_safe_ ** **.** The tendrils that have been lazily coiled around Eddie’s hips for most of the night give a little tug, slither higher up to his stomach, near his navel. 

 

Eddie reaches for the remote and flicks off the television, which cloaks the room in a more dramatic darkness than he had intended. 

 

He shuffles to his bedroom and kicks off his sweats, nudges them into the pile of dirty laundry that is quickly accumulating on his floor. 

 

**Parasites don’t make you feel** **_good_ ** **, Eddie** , Venom comments. 

 

Eddie hums, quizzical, and tries to get situated in bed. His mouth still tastes overly sweet, but no way in hell is he getting up to brush his teeth. After midnight, Eddie is barely human (though on second thought, Eddie is never  _ entirely _ human). 

 

**Like this.**

 

Eddie’s eyes are already half lidded with sleep when Venom stirs in his shoulders, thin ropes of inky black materializing to caress and touch at Eddie; brush over that small, soft spot behind his earlobe, curl around the curve of his cheek. 

 

“Suddenly gentle?” Eddie asks, teasing. He bristles at the touch, but eases into it, tired and appreciative. The creeped out, unnatural feeling that comes with being newly intimate with Venom is muddied by Eddie’s lack of sleep in the past week. 

 

**For you** , Venom answers.  **For us.** His touch slopes downward, the ink-skin of his physical apparition twisting around Eddie’s torso, around his chest and stomach. 

 

Eddie shivers. “‘S late,” is all he manages out. 

 

Digits form, long fingers, twice the size of Eddie’s own hands. They rest low, on Eddie’s hips. Venom purrs and says, **Halloween is when monsters come out.**

 

Eddie yawns hard enough that tears form in the corners of his eyes and he scratches at the little patches of facial hair that are growing in. “Thought you were an alien, not a monster.” 

Venom finally comes out in full form; sprawled on his stomach, his face cocked to the side so it leans against Eddie’s left thigh.  **Humans** **_think_ ** **I’m a monster.** His tongue slithers out and in the dark, he looks even more hellish, the glint of his teeth catching in what light is cast in through the window. 

 

Eddie’s cock twitches lazily in interest, and Eddie almost laughs at himself; how the threat of having his femoral artery lanced with the biggest fangs he’s ever seen is a turn on. “Not me.” 

 

**No… Not my Eddie. Our Eddie.** Venom nuzzles his face against Eddie’s thigh, the closest thing he can mimic to a kiss that doesn’t involve coating Eddie in a film of saliva. The love language of an alien. 

 

A sleepy smile. Eddie can feel his cock starting to harden. It doesn’t take much with Venom around, and he knows when his boxers start to tent fully, Venom will be smug and devious and touching him all over. 

 

Eddie has mustered enough strength to raise his hands and is about to cup Venom’s face when Venom retreats back into his skin, disappears into Eddie’s thighs like a water balloon breaking, but without any splash. “Hey…!” 

 

Venom laughs under Eddie’s skin, a little ripple. 

 

“Do what you’re gonna do soon or I’ll fall asleep on ya.” 

 

**Eddie dreams of us. Dirty dreams.** Venom stirs somewhere just beneath the skin of Eddie’s thigh and then bubbles back into existence, curling thin tendrils around Eddie’s now mostly hard cock. 

 

Eddie makes a low sound and feels a heat creeping onto his face, turning red at the thought that Venom has been viewing his dreams. His fingers twitch and he grips at the underside of his own thighs to keep from touching his own cock; he’s too afraid Venom will pull away. And Venom’s touch feels exponentially better than his ever could. 

 

“Y-You ain’t gotta watch,” Eddie says, his voice soft and near breaking when Venom’s tentacles stroke up and down his shaft. “But I’m guessin’ you don’t hate it i-if you’re doing this…” 

 

**Our body needs this,** Venom murmurs.  **Our dreams have become… recurrent.**

 

Eddie is far from being a teenage boy who has wet dreams every other night, but with Venom being an ever present fantasy in the back of his mind (literally), age hasn’t been stopping him from waking up with sticky boxers. 

 

There’s only been 2 or 3 of these dreams, always the same. Being restricted, pinned down, manhandled. 

 

**Eddie wants to feel…** **_small_ ** **.**

 

He swallows down an embarrassing sound that he’s sure could’ve been likened to a squeak, had he let it leave his throat. 

 

Venom, finally, finally, tightens his grip. His tentacles thickening enough that they blend into the other, encasing Eddie’s cock almost completely, from base to tip. Eddie’s fingers curl deeper into his thighs, his blunt nails digging quietly into the skin. 

 

“Venom…” Eddie cranes his neck back into the pillows and the cords of his throat strain. 

 

And suddenly, Venom is there again. The great hulking mass he is, rising up from between Eddie’s legs, but cut off at his torso. His arms are reaching down, revealed as what is touching Eddie so intimately, though formless, no fingers, just the amorphous ooze of Venom there, encasing Eddie’s cock. “ **Eddie,”** Venom purrs. 

 

Eddie is really digging into his thighs now. “ _ Please _ ,” he whines. And he always thinks himself above begging, but as soon as Venom is touching him, that front melts. 

 

For once, this is all it takes. Venom obliges and begins to do - something that feels similar to being stroke, though all over, like a fleshlight. But  _ better _ . A twisting, a sucking, all of which is making a terribly dirty sound that makes Eddie blush harder than he already is, going so red his ears burn. 

 

The back of his left hand goes to his mouth and he bites down to muffle the sounds he’s making; desperate little moans that pitch into a higher, feminine noises when Venom moves  _ just _ right. Eddie’s closed his eyes, though there is a pulling in the back of his mind telling him to open them, to look at Venom during this. 

 

**Eddie feels small. So deliciously small.**

 

Eddie’s hips buck up into the slickness of Venom’s touch at these words and he opens his eyes, half lidded, panting, glancing up at Venom who is grinning down at him, all tongue and fang and oily iridescence.  “Well, i-it’s not hard to make someone- ah- feel small when you look like  _ that _ …,” Eddie grits. His breaths are humid and hot against his hand. 

 

Venom cocks his head slightly to the side and the whiteness of his eyes slice smaller.  **Big talk. Small Eddie. And trembling.** A tight squeeze follows his words and Eddie lets out a particularly harsh groan and his hips stutter, cock throbbing as he cums, chest heaving, muttering “fuck” like it’s the only word he knows. 

 

His thighs quiver. Eddie slumps hard into his pillows and let’s his body go loose, a tiny smile on his lips as he watches Venom dematerialize, sinking back into him. “Jesus,” Eddie whispers, and he half laughs. 

 

Venom curls up around Eddie’s throat, scarf-like, nuzzling into him as he settles for the night.  **Leftover candy, Eddie. Breakfast?**

 

Eddie laughs for real, which is appropriately followed by a yawn. “Already thinking about breakfast?” 

 

**Yes.**

 

“Sleep first. You can have whatever you want in the morning.” 

 

**Goodnight, Eddie.**

 

“G’night, V.” 

**Author's Note:**

> yo catch me on tumblr @cherryfaggot. 
> 
> cheers.


End file.
